I sat down this evening to watch a 20/20 anchoress grill the new CEO of GE on corporate responsibility, evading taxes and job creation. It was a fascinating interview, ending with the face of GE asking why Americans didn’t route for him/them as “Germany roots for Siemens and Japan roots for Toshiba.” He believes that if given a tax vacation, American companies would create jobs, even though a previous, similar experiment failed to produce those results.
Then, as I attempted to catch up on my bloggy news (all 172 unread posts), I came across Late Enough’s public service announcement: Someone Needs To Tell The American People: Corporations Don’t Care. I’m generally unfamiliar with this march on Wall Street (though I’ve seen some pictures and am beginning to connect the dots), and I don’t necessarily share all of her views, her post – complete with fantastic graphic – is worth a gander. It might not leave you with a warm, fuzzy feeling toward American corporations, so when you leave there, do a little google search on “Starbucks and stateside microeconomics”. Time reported that Starbucks is now putting out tip jars to invite customers to join with it in helping cure the American economy by an attempt at micro-economic loans for stateside small businesses.
All this caught my attention ever since I posted about my connection between parenting and politics. I said, and I quote (whoa… what is the protocol around self-quoting?): Change begins with you, my friend. I didn’t think much about it until my cousin quoted that line and shared it on facebook (see? I was actually quoting a quoter. Totally legit). I hadn’t intended on making some brilliant political insinuation, but upon reflection, I had. And I believe it more now than when I, albeit accidently, wrote it.
On the eve of a big – if you ask me, potentially game changing – election, I think We the People need to engage in some healthy self-reflection on the topic of change. What have we asked of our leaders? And how have we gone about being, as my smarter-than-me friend puts it, “part of the solution rather than part of the problem”?
We want jobs. We want economic relief. We want change. But what are we wiling to do – to change – to get there? On a macro- and micro- level our country has asked our elected representatives to do something that we ourselves are not willing to live. We’re asking them to fill the pool without offering a foot of hose; in essence leaving them at the mercy of the rain gods. We’re too smart – too innovative – of a country to believe that’s where solutions come from.
My list of excuses centers around: but what can I do? I’m just one person. I can’t create a job. I can’t hire someone. I can barely afford to purchase locally grown food to support the farmer down the road, let alone offer a loan to a start-up business.
But I can put a dollar in the tip jar to partner with a huge corporation in an endeavor to make change. I can, as a shareholder in any publicly traded company, give some voice that perhaps bottom line isn’t the only consideration – if we want to see long term gains, the company should be investing in people. And, as previously mentioned, there’s power in the dollar. Until GE wants to jump in with us to try to make change in the landscape of American jobs, perhaps I’ll look elsewhere for my major household appliances. We can “buy American” all we want, but before patting ourselves on the back perhaps we should ask if that company is hiring Americans. In this vein, I could write a separate but similar post about why I buy Honda.
So here’s to stepping up to the plate. With much hope, these gains in the world of small businesses will set afire a new collaboration of local businesses, all investing in one another, to create a new economy.
Cheers.
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A close circle of friends and I have been at war with the month of October for several years now. After the 3rd death in the dreadful month, someone started referring to it as (f)october. I’m not much of a swear-er, but if the shoe fits…
A bit of history: my husband lost his sister on the 11th of the month – this year will mark 10 years without her. A few years later KLR’s mother lost a battle to cancer. I didn’t have the privilege of ever meeting these 2 people, but the simple hurt of the people I love is enough to make it matter. But then we lost Vanessa on the 17th, and even though it followed a major surgery, it still came as a shock to us all. She may have had little feet to match her small stature, but those were big shoes to fill in many hearts. I miss her, even when it’s not October.
Then a few years later I miscarried at 12 weeks. Welcome to the grief club.
So, save my birthday, the month of October represents a very low point to many of us. I suppose it’s fitting, as most of the things around us seem to be dying during this season, living where we do. It’s better than, say, being sad at Christmas. Or the 4th of July. Who wants to cry to fireworks?
I’ve tried to do battle with this month, determining myself to be cheery and joyful. But I must say that it’s not started on the right foot. The past week has been a heavy one for our family, and though it seems we’ve turned a curve, it’s a dimly lit path ahead.
And then, the chocolate. In my War on October I planned to venture to Girls’ Night, a celebration of friends and chocolate. But alas, the school calendar is in on the conspiracy and husband has conferences this evening, of which he knew nothing prior. At least 18 different reasons keep me from taking the kids with me, so instead I’ll just need to be grateful that I’m not consuming the extra calories via chocolate. Even though it’s common knowledge that calories don’t count in months that begin with the letter O. I shouldn’t put cancelled social plans on par with the grief of families I love; but resembles a cheap shot from an opponent after you’ve already Cried Uncle. Just. Not. Fair.
So, I have a few options: 1) Enjoy the beautiful sunny weather that can only be interpreted as a Peace Offering, a Booby Prize of sorts, and take my kids to the park and watch them frolic. Or B) mope around until bedtime, take a hot bath while reading a fantastic book club book and drown the sorrows in ice cream. Or wine. Or both.
Because the calories don’t count, remember?
Perhaps I’ll do a little of both. I can acknowledge the dread of the season while not giving it the satisfaction of knowing that it has me down for the count. I’ve got 27 more attempts at turning around my expectations.
It may seem that I’ve been postless this past week or so; in actuality my draft pages are full of thoughts that aren’t fully conceptualized. And they’re deep. So, rather than have a reader wade through muddy waters, I’m just going to let them simmer a bit. It’s been a very introspective week and so I’m trying to prevent you from inundating the blog with ramblings.
Instead, I’ll inundate you with obscure and insignificant [to you] happenings with my children.
Henry – 35 months
My boy is wicked smart. Not to brag or anything. But we’ve been going through all kinds of evaluations and screenings for the possibility of pre-school, and he’s always well complimented at his understanding of things. They probably say that to every mom, so it’s my recommendation that if you have a bad day, go to a preschool screening. They’ll lift your Good Mom ego.
His favorite things to do right now: running (“M, let’s go running!! I run fast!”) and pulling – as in wagons. Anything rope or chain-like will somehow be adhered to anything mobile, such as a toy car or scooter, to be pulled.
He’s starting to understand emotions better. We used to think that “happy” was tied to the act of crying, but I think we’ve finally convinced him that babies cry when they’re hungry or tired. He’s very good at picking out when someone’s being silly, though. “Silly mommy!” he’ll say. Adorable.
He loves his sisters. He loves Baby C when she’s lounging about; he’ll snuggle up real close. We’re starting to have some very important conversations about personal space and boundaries, of which he knows and respects none of.
He also loves Miss M, but mostly only when she does what he says. He has learned to try to ask nicely, which translates to him as = high pitched voice. Then he’ll talk to her like we do, “come on, sweetie.” My heart melts every time.
Miss M – 19.5 months
Her vocabulary is huge! What a vernacular. Words she says frequently – more, milk, water, diaper, daddy, doggy, here you go, thank you, this one?, sock, shoe, up, no, yogurt, grape, cheese, stuck, snack, (really, anything that ends with a -ck), hat, teeth, brush.
Beyond expressive vocabulary, she understands 75% of what we tell her. Maybe more, I just didn’t want to sound all braggy-braggy. When we ask her to do things (get a towel, put it back, take to daddy, throw it away) she knows exactly what to do and where to find the needed tools. One day she spilled water in the bedroom and she went downstairs to the kitchen to get a towel from the oven and bring it back. It took her quite a while, but she was successful. Another time I was trying to convince H that he needed socks before putting on shoes but he didn’t want to make the trek up to get them and suggested instead that “M do it.” Later I go up to retrieve said socks and there is M, trying to open his sock drawer. She even got the right drawer!
M continues to be our singer, frequently breaking into song while in the car. Her other favorite car time activity is sleeping. We can be making a 3 minute drive to the store and she’ll fall asleep. It’s simply amazing.
She has a huge love for her dolls, one in particular, and enjoys feeding them bottles or her own sippy cups. She also will drive them around in the toy stroller, try to change their diapers (using Baby C’s diapers and wipes) and wrap them in blankets (Baby C’s burp cloths).
Baby C – 11 weeks
My biggest baby by far! Last week we went to the doctor – she weighed in at over 12 pounds, landing in the 95th percentile for weight. I don’t recall the length (it’s written down, don’t worry), but it and head circumference are both in the 75th percentile.
She’s sleeping much more consistently, only getting up around 2am to eat and then again around 6 or 7. This schedule is much more conducive to sleeping. She’s also napping well for both the sitter and myself. She still likes the swaddle but has decided against the binky for a good deep sleep (if held in the arms she prefers it though).
She’s smiling and cooing, and H loves it when she is verbally expressive around him. “She’s talkin’!” he says. Then he’ll start conversation. “How you doing, C? Have you had a good day?”
So, that’s the action in this house. We’ve settled into a nice pattern of controlled chaos. I started back to work last week, working in the mornings from home and taking them to a sitter’s house across the street. So far it’s working out splendidly. We like her and the kids don’t even mind me leaving and letting me out the door without a holler. However, I’ve been taking their breakfast with us, so sitting down to a pumpkin muffin probably does help soothe the transition.
We’re liking the community, though I don’t get to see much of it. We’ve found a church that we’re committing to an extended time of trying out for a fit and doing a small group with them this fall to see how we might mesh with the larger community. I’m hoping that provides new avenues to relationships around here.
That’s life for us at the moment, at least in the most brief of notes.